


Held at gunpoint

by MissSlothy



Series: Whumptober 2020 [2]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Angst, BAMF Danny "Danno" Williams, First Kiss, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Violence, Whump, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:07:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26932627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissSlothy/pseuds/MissSlothy
Summary: “So, what about you and Steve?”Danny steers the Camaro around a parked car before answering Tani, who’s sitting in the passenger seat.  “What about us?”Tani shrugs.  “You know…you and Steve.”“No.  No, I don’t know.”  Eyes still fixed on the road, he waves his hand.  “You maybe want to help me out, use some words there?”Written for Whumptober 2020
Relationships: Steve McGarrett/Danny "Danno" Williams
Series: Whumptober 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1983485
Comments: 36
Kudos: 377
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Held at gunpoint

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt - Held at gunpoint - taken from Whumptober challenge: https://whumptober2020.tumblr.com/

“So, what about you and Steve?”

Danny steers the Camaro around a parked car before answering Tani, who’s sitting in the passenger seat. “What about us?”

Tani shrugs. “You know…you and Steve.”

“No. No, I don’t know.” Eyes still fixed on the road, he waves his hand. “You maybe want to help me out, use some words there?”

Tani’s eyebrows raise. “You really need me to spell it out for you?”

“I really do.”

She frowns. Looks unsure. “I figured…Junes and I…we thought you and Steve had a thing going.”

Danny risks a glance to his right. “A _thing?”_

“Yeah. A thing. Sex.”

A car in the opposite lane sounds its horn as the Camaro drifts. Hastily correcting it, he glares at Tani. “What?”

“Don’t give me that horrified look. You know what I’m talking about.”

The problem is, he does. _So_ much. But he’s certain Steve doesn’t so there’s no way he’s talking about this now. Especially with Tani. “We’re on the way to investigate the scene of a crime and you’re talking about—

“Sex.”

“Enough—“

“I’m pretty sure you’re not getting any—“

“Hey!”

“And I’m certain Steve’s not—“

“Seriously—“

“So we figured maybe, you know, you and Steve had a secret romance going on.”

“A secret romance? _Romance_?” He throws a hand in the air. “You’ve met Steve, right?”

Tani hums. “That’s interesting.”

Danny hates himself for asking: “What is?”

“You’ve focused on the romance,” she explains, using air quotes around the dreaded R word. “Anyone else would still be freaking out on the idea of having sex with their partner. Their same-sex partner.”

“Trust me, there’s a lot about this conversation that’s freaking me out—“

“So you don’t want to have rumpy pumpy with Steve?”

“Rumpy pumpy? Who even talks like that?”

“Harry did, when Junes told him about us.”

Danny risks another glance. “You talked to Harry?”

Tani goes suspiciously quiet. There’s a pause. Silence. Then: “You’re jealous.”

Danny grips the steering wheel tighter. Tells himself to focus on the road. It’s not that he’s jealous. It’s just that he and Harry have grown close over the years. They’re very similar. Getting older. Tired. Mourning relationships they can never have.

“So is that why you and Steve are not—“

“Stop.” He raises his hand to make his point. “ _Stop_.”

Tani slides down into her seat, arms crossed. Staring out of the window, she sighs. “I’m worried is all. You two, you always seem kinda…sad.”

Watching her out of the corner of his eye, he concedes defeat. He really does have a soft spot for her. “Steve and I are fine.” He waits for her to nod before continuing. “I get what you’re saying, okay? You’re in a new relationship, everything’s peachy, you got this perfect future planned out ahead of you. You want that for your friends. I understand that.” He does: once upon a time he’d been that person too. “It’s cute. I’m touched, I really am. But it’s not going to happen between Steve and me. You understand?”

Tani mutters something under breath.

Frowning, he indicates right, pulling them off the main road and onto a dirt track leading up into the mountains. The Camaro bounces over deep ruts in the dirt. “Excuse me?”

Tani looks him in the eye. Smiles at him, all teeth and faux-innocence. “’Steve and me’. See? You even talk like you’re a couple.”

“I hate you right now.”

“Harsh, dude.”

“I should make you get out and walk.”

She laughs, deep and throaty.

Danny grins back, despite how uncomfortable the conversation is making him. Tani’s right – there’s no way he can make her get out. It’s not just because she’s armed. Steve’s had them all doing more hand-to-hand combat training sessions in the HPD gym. 

He’s still grinning as they drive further away from the main highway, heading up into the lush, green bush land. The track’s getting worse – more of a sea of mud than an actual track so the Camaro’s tires are struggling to get traction – so he’s relieved when the bush around them opens up into a cleared area. There’s a one storey house off to one side and a selection of outhouses. From the outside it appears derelict. Most of the windows are broken. Abandoned cars litter the site, in various stages of rusty decay.

Pulling up outside, he turns off the engine. He and Tani peer through the windshield at the house. They’ve had a tip off that the house has been used to store drugs by a gang that they’ve been tracking for weeks. Apparently it’s empty, but they’re hoping it will reveal clues where to find the gang.

“Just so you know,” Tani says, her tone turning serious as they retrieve their tac vests from the trunk, “Steve’s crazy about you.”

Danny keeps his head down, pretends to be searching through Steve’s huge cache of weapons for something. Kidding around that he and Steve are married is something he’s used to handling. Hearing someone he’s close to like Tani say Steve’s crazy about him, that’s so much harder to hear. 

A wave of sadness hits him, making his stomach roil. It’s so not true what she thinks about Steve, he’s sure. They’re close friends, but that’s all it’s ever going to be. And he’s okay with that – most of the time.

“You’re right about one thing,” he tells her, forcing himself to grin, “Steve is crazy.”

Tani eyes him suspiciously as they check their weapons. But quickly she focuses on the job in hand. “No tire tracks,” she points out, their boots squidging through the wet grass up to the house. “Doesn’t look like anyone has been here for a while.”

“That’s what the anonymous tip off said,” Danny agrees as they enter the house. Inside, everything is covered by dust and dirt. “No footsteps in here either.”

Tani looks disappointed. “Why am I starting to think we’re on a wild goose chase?”

Danny scans the room they’re standing in: a kitchen with a table in the middle. Under all the dust and dirt there’s gold: plates and mugs abandoned mid-meal. This is the kind of evidence they were hoping for. Fingerprints. “Forensics are gonna love this.”

“You want me to give them a call?”

Danny considers the question. “Let’s check out the back. Steve thought we might need to get the drugs dogs in here. They’ll need to come in first.”

In silent agreement, they carry on searching through the house. More rooms are revealed that forensics are going to love: mattresses on the floor stained with bloodily fluids that both of them scrunch up their faces at and move on. Cigarette butts and crushed beer cans everywhere. There’s no sign of a drug factory – the one piece of evidence they really need – but they haven’t checked the outbuildings.

Feeling hopeful, they’re about to move outside when they hear the engine of a truck approaching. Not just one truck engine. Lots of them.

He hurries over to the front window, with a growing sense of foreboding. “Shit.”

“What is it...” Tani trails off as she joins him by the window. She whistles under her breath. “Why am I thinking this is not good?”

Danny grabs his phone out of his pocket. Half a dozen trucks are now bouncing across the clearing, advancing at speed. He can’t see who is driving but he can see the men sat in the flatbeds and he knows instantly they’re never going to be friends. 

Right now, he’d bet his house on the fact that they’ve walked into a trap. Things don’t improve when he checks his phone: there’s no signal.

Tani’s face drops as she checks her phone too. “I got nothing.” Gripping the window frame, she checks outside again. “If we could get to the Camaro we could use the radio and call HPD.”

“Too late,” he mutters. Scanning his surroundings, evaluating everything he knows about this gang, he comes to a decision. It’s one that Tani’s not going to like. “I need you to slip out the back and get help.”

Her jaw works, disbelief robbing her of the power of speech.

Grabbing her by the elbow, he drags her back from the window. “I know what you’re thinking,” he says, pulling them both towards the back of the house, one eye still on the front door, “but if we both run for it they’ll follow us, maybe catch us. This way, I keep them entertained long enough, you get to the road, and we’ll both be drinking beers on Steve’s lanai tonight.”

Snatching her arm back, she comes to a halt. Determined. Angry. _Hell,_ she looks angry. “I’m not abandoning you. The two of us, we can take them out.”

Danny appreciates her faith in his skills but they both know it’s not true. There’re just too many of them. Grabbing her by the shoulders, he turns her, pushes her towards the back door. “I’m ordering you to go. Wait until they’re at the front door before slipping out. Understand?”

Her mulish expression confirms that she understands just fine but she’s never going to say it. For a second he thinks he’s going to have to push her out himself. Then her shoulders drop. Defeated. Raising her gun, she checks the clip. “Steve’s gonna kill me.”

He grins, weakly. “Nah, don’t worry. He’s gonna kill me first.”

H50H50H50

Danny lets his eyes drift closed. Something sharp is digging in shin. He focuses on it, zeroes in on the pain. It’s not quite enough to blank out everything else – the way his bad knee is aching as he kneels on the floor, or the ropes tied to his wrists and ankles, rubbing his skin raw – but it’s a welcome distraction.

“Hey! Hey! Wake up!”

His head jerks back as a hand connects with the side of his head, open-palmed. Tasting blood from where he’s bitten the inside of his mouth, he opens his eyes. His vision is swimming, his ears filled with a loud buzzing noise but it doesn’t matter, he already knows what he’s going to see. 

The men from the trucks are surrounding him. He’d been right: they hadn’t been happy to see him. Greeting them with a cocky smile and a few choice words that would have made his mom blush probably hadn’t helped. Ever since they’ve been taking it in turns to use him as a punch bag. 

They’re neanderthals. Not Steve-type neanderthals: these ones really are knuckle draggers with a single brain cell. All they want is to inflict pain. They’re not that good at it – Charlie can land a better punch than most of them – but the continuous beating is starting to take its toll.

A hand grabs his hair, pulling his head back. Everything swims, making him sway on his knees. With his hands and feet tied and no way to save himself, he’s sure he’s about to go over. At the last seconds, rough hands push him back upright.

“Tell me! Who told you about this place!”

Danny’s eyes water with pain at the new position. Whatever was poking at his shin has now dug in. Blinking, he tries to clear his vision. The room comes back into focus just as the leader of the neanderthals appears.

This guy doesn’t look any more intelligent than the others. But he yells louder so apparently he’s in charge. He’s got a gun too – a ridiculously large Magnum revolver – which he keeps waving around like he’s in a Dirty Harry movie.

Digging deep, he makes himself grin, toothy and blood stained. He’s got no idea what the answer is to the question they keep asking. Giving them is a false name is an option but he needs to be sure Tani’s had time to get away.

Exploring his mouth with the tip of his tongue confirms he’s going to be looking at a heavy dental bill. A couple of ribs are aching, the fallout from his initial fight with these shitheads. It’ll be worth though if they don’t get their hands on Tani. No way is he going to let them do that.

These men, this place: it reminds him of when Grace, his partner in Jersey, was murdered. These types of men, they have no respect for women. The memory of Tani’s angry expression flashes into his minds eye but he quashes it. He’s seen this gang’s police records. It’s not Tani’s weaponry or self-defence skills he was worried about. It’s because she’s a woman.

A giggle bubbles in his chest: impending hysteria. He can imagine her face right now. She’s going to be furious, so _fucking_ furious when she gets back here with backup. These bastards won’t know what’s hit them. Add in two ex-Navy SEALs, an ex-SWAT commander and a former member of the Yakuza, and they’re going to be sitting ducks.

Until then, he has to hold on.

It’s easier said than done though. The slaps gradually turn into heavier punches. Patience, if the neanderthals ever had it, is wearing thin. Bad-mouthing and grinning at them becomes impossible: pain is radiating across his face, down his neck, through his shoulders. His knees, thank god, are turning numb.

He’s on the verge of making up a name to distract them when it happens: the lead ape points his gun straight at him. His world stops, reduced to the muzzle of the weapon, expecting the flash of the bullet at any second. Then the lead ape moves, and the muzzle is digging into the side of his head.

Instinctively, he tries to shift to get away from it. Fingers dig into his shoulders, keeping him still. The buzzing in his ears is getting louder. Heart pounding, his chest feels like it might explode. Vision greying around the edges he forces his eyes up, to meet the gang leader’s. Making his mouth work takes a huge efforts but he manages it: a toothy, _fuck you_ grin.

The pressure of the metal against his forehead increases. _You’ve screwed up,_ the little voice in his head tells him. _Steve’s not going to get here in time._

“Hello boys.”

The voice has come from behind him. But he doesn’t need to turn to know who it is. Despair hits: it’s Tani. She didn’t run like he asked. That’s all the time he gets to process. The hands holding him let go and he’s falling. Grunting with pain as his body twists, he hits the wooden floor, hard. 

Lying on his side on the floor gives him a whole new perspective. Tani’s standing by the back door, leaning on the door frame. The shirt she’s wearing has a few more buttons undone at the top than it had earlier. Her hair’s been released from its top knot to flow around her shoulders.

She looks stunning. The neanderthals think so too. As one, they turn towards her.

Danny opens his mouth to curse at them, to enrage them so they forget Tani’s in the room. Before he can, a window at the front of the house explodes inwards. A split second later the leader of the gang is sprawled on the floor beside him, eyes open wide in shock. Blood is staining the front of his shirt.

The others turn towards the sound, confused. 

Suddenly Danny sees it: the red dot hovering over the chest of another man. Panic breaks out as he falls too. Straining against his bonds, he tries to find Tani but the air is whistling with bullets as the men go down one after the other: pop, pop, pop, like ducks in a shooting gallery.

 _Steve,_ he thinks vaguely, as the red dot cuts through them with clinical precision. Not all of them are dead but they won’t be going anywhere soon. That’s when he catches sight of Tani: crouching next to an injured man, she’s cuffing his arms behind his back with a level of aggressive not usually encouraged in the HPD.

 _She’s okay._ As the words register in his head, relief floods through him. Something deep down inside him unknots. 

“Danny? Danny!”

He has a moment to register the sound of boots running across the wooden floor towards him. Then Steve’s on his knees beside him, patting him down frantically. 

“Where are you hurt?”

Danny laughs: part relief, part adrenaline dump. “Everywhere, babe.” Steve’s wicked black blade knife flashes before his eyes and the ropes tying his wrists to his ankles part. Blood rushes to his cramped limbs. “Ow. Ow, ow, ow, ow, _ow.”_

“Sorry.” Steve starts patting again, gentler this time, as he checks for injuries. 

He breathes, lets his eyes drift closed. He wasn’t kidding, everything does hurt right now. Steve rubbing his hands and ankles in turn, to help restore the circulation, helps though. When Steve stops doing it he wants to protest but the words won’t come.

He groans when Steve carefully straightens his arms and legs, then rolls him onto his back. The world spins, nausea threatens. The reassuring touch of Steve rubbing the back of his neck grounds him. Breathing through his nose, he waits for everything to settle down.

More boots approach. He recognises those too: Tani. “EMTs are here.” There’s a heavy pause. “How’s he doing?”

Forcing his eyes open, he meets Tani’s gaze. Nudging his brain, he drags up the words she needs. “He’ll live.” He tries for a smile but ends up wincing instead. “You did good.”

Tani nods, mutely. She’s the most subdued he’s ever seen her. Fear and worry has dulled the spark in her eyes. She manages a weak smile but he can tell she doesn’t believe him.

Turning his attention to Steve doesn’t make him any happier. Steve has a look when he’s struggling to contain his anger: eyes hard, brow creased, lips thin and pursed togther. He’s wearing it now. 

Sighing inwardly, he nudges Steve with his elbow, gesturing towards Tani. “Please tell me you didn’t yell at her?”

The accusation has the effect he’s hoping for. Steve’s angry mask slips, morphs to hurt. “Of course I didn’t.”

“Tani?”

Tani manages a weak smile. “There was no yelling.”

Exhaustion is creeping up on him. His eyes drift closed again. “’Means he’s gonna yell at me…”

“Hey, hey. Keep your eyes open for me. There’s not gonna be any yelling, okay?” Steve sounds desperate. 

His eyes flicker open in response. “I’m ‘kay.”

“No you’re not.” Steve strokes the back of his neck, gently. “But we’re gonna get you fixed up.”

Suddenly there are more people around him, voices and movement that his brain protests at. Vaguely he’s aware of them talking over him. He rouses himself enough to answer their questions. But mostly he drifts, just glad to be alive.

Eventually they move him onto a gurney. He’s expecting it to hurt like hell but the pain relief the EMTs have given him is working. By the time he’s wheeled outside, he’s doped up enough to smile at the feel of the sun on his battered skin. Rolling his head to the side, he finds Steve walking beside him. His vision is blurred about the edges but there’s no hiding it: Steve looks angry as hell.

H50H50H50

At the hospital, they want him to stay overnight. Normally he couldn’t think of anything worse. This time he agrees.

It’s not just the pain, the exhaustion or the fact he’s got a concussion: all of those he could deal with at home. It’s not even the thought of being driven home. It’s the way Steve’s looming by his bed, barking out orders, every time his concussed brain lets him think straight. Even the nurses, who are emergency room veterans, look concerned.

It’s a relief when Lou appears a few hours later, having cleared up the crime scene. Steve still looks like he wants to kill someone and he, Danny, hasn’t got the energy to talk him off the edge. It takes all of Lou’s powers of persuasion - not to mention some of his body weight - to hustle Steve out of the hospital, when the visiting hours end.

Finally, _finally,_ he gets to falls asleep.

H50H50H50

Having a concussion means the nursing staff wake him up every few hours, to check his brain isn’t scrambled. But he’s got a room to himself, the pain medication is good, the bed surprisingly comfortable. And he’s tired, _so_ tired, that falling back to sleep every time is easy.

So, when he’s woken in the middle of the night by a noise, he doesn’t panic. Not at first anyway. His drugged brain takes a while to register there’s no light on. And whoever is in his room is lurking in the darkness.

The answer pops into head. _For crying out loud._ “Steve?” 

Boots squeak across the tiled floor. The small lamp next to his bed switches on. The soft light reveals Steve, dressed in a black sweater and black cargo pants. He looks pale and drawn.

“Jesus, Steven.” His headache flares, reminding him not to shout. He makes his point with a loud whisper instead. “What time is it?”

Steve looks at his watch. His expression turns sheepish. “Just gone 2am.” He shrugs, tucks his hands in his pockets. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“You couldn’t sleep…” he trails off, waiting for his brain to catch up. When it does, a horrible thought occurs to him. “Does anyone know you’re in here?”

Steve glances back at the door. “It’s the middle of the night, Danny. I didn’t want to disturb them.”

He rubs at his temple, struggling for calm. “Please tell me you didn’t scale the building because if Security are about to raid my room then I’m gonna need more drugs—”

“Of course not.” Steve’s frowning. “I used the emergency stairs.”

“Of course you did.” Dropping his hand, he slumps back in his pillows, stares at the ceiling. “Just say it and let me go back to sleep. _Please.”_

Steve’s frown grows. “I don’t know what—”

“You’re angry with me. Just say it.”

The frown turns into a scowl. “I’m not.”

The drugs are good but there isn’t an inch of his face that isn’t aching. He covers his eyes with his hand. “I’m tired, babe—”

Steve flinches, turns, paces away to the edge of the light. “They nearly killed you. If I’d missed—"

“You never miss.”

“Danny—"

“They wouldn’t have gone through with it.”

Steve paces back, crosses his arms. Scowls. “It didn’t look like it from where I was standing.”

Dragging himself half-way up his pillows causes a twinge of pain. Anger is stirring though, giving him a surge of energy. He’s not blind to Steve’s point of view but his body feels like it’s been hit by a train. It has to be worth it. “What was I supposed to do, huh? You know what they’d have done to Tani if they’d caught her. You get that, right?”

Steve’s shoulders slump. He stares at his feet. “I get it.” His voice is rough, raw. “I would have done the same thing.”

Exasperated, Danny sucks in a breath. Slapping his hand over his sore ribs he tries, and fails, to stop another painful twinge. He meets Steve’s gaze, daring him to look away. “So, you wanna tell me why we’re arguing in the middle of the night?”

Steve stands up straight, like a stick’s just been shoved up his ass. “You’re right…you’re tired. I shouldn’t have come…I’ll…I’ll see you in the morning.”

He’s out of patience. “Sit.”

Something in his tone must get through to Steve. Pulling a chair up next to the bed, Steve slumps into it. Dropping his head into his hands, he stares at his feet. He lets out a shuddering sigh. “That was close, Danny. Too close. I don’t know…I don’t what I would do if…”

He closes his eyes against the pain in Steve’s voice. Against the memory of the gun jammed against his head. Steve’s right: it had been too close.

A heavy silence falls between them. It grows, like a physical thing.

Opening his eyes, Danny sighs inwardly. Steve looks small. Defeated. As strange as it is that Steve’s here, he gets it. There have been nights, when Steve’s been in hospital, when he’s laid awake all night, his heart aching to be back there. Just to be back in Steve’s space. Over the years the need has got stronger. Like a siren song, it’s impossible to ignore. Somehow though, he’s convinced himself that Steve doesn’t feel it, not in the same way. 

He’s always been good at deflecting when it comes to relationships.

“This is ridiculous…”

Steve’s head jerks up. “What is?”

“Us. Dancing around each other. You and me.” Panic flashes across Steve’s face – quickly hidden - but he pushes on, throws himself into the abyss. “Tani thinks we should have rumpy pumpy.”

Steve’s eyebrows shoot to the top of his head. “Rumpy what?”

He takes a breath, ignores his own impending panic attack. “You heard me.”

Shaking his head in disbelief, Steve frowns. “She’s been talking to Harry.”

“Yep.”

“Hmm…” Steve trails off. A muscle in his jaw twitches as he stares off into the darkness. 

Danny’s heart sinks. It’s definitely not the reaction he was hoping for. On the other hand, Steve hasn’t bolted for the door. Ignoring the overwhelming urge to go back to sleep and pretend this never happened, he soldiers on. “’Hmm’? That’s all you’ve got? I offer you sex and you say ‘hmm’? Way to kick a guy when he’s down.”

Steve’s head whips back round. A myriad of emotions flash across his face. Confusion. Uncertainty. Fear. “That’s not what I meant."

Danny pulls the sheets up to his shoulders, ready to burrow underneath. He’s seriously considering blaming his sudden burst of honesty on the drugs. There’s no other reason he could have been so dumb to ever think this would play out the way he wanted. “No, I can see you hate the idea so…just forget I said it…”

Steve jumps out of his chair like a jack rabbit. Reaching out, he looks like he’s coming in for a hug. Or a kiss. Or maybe both. Inches away, he aborts. His expression darkens as his eyes travel over his bruised face. Hissing out a breath, Steve pulls back. “I want to, okay. I do. Christ, of course I do. I've wanted to forever but...”

“But…?”

Steve sighs. Throws his hands in the air, lost for words.

He feels Steve’s pain. They’ve been hovering on the edge of a relationship for years now. But it’s complex. Not something to be unpicked casually. He pats the side of the bed instead. “Get over here.”

Steve does the strange start-stop thing again. “I can’t—"

Shuffling, wincing, he makes space. “Get in here.”

It takes some shifting around – Steve’s not small and the bed is designed for one – but eventually Steve’s stretched out next to him, his booted feet dangling off the side. Nudging Steve’s hip with his hand, he silently gives a hint. He’s rewarded when Steve’s fingers weave with his, squeezing gently.

“I’m not angry with you Danny.” Steve’s grip on his hand tightens. His voice is low, more of a furious whisper. “I’m angry with me. I’m angry because I was nearly too late. I’m angry that I put you there. I’m angry at those bastards for what they did to you and I’m angry that I can’t…I can’t tell you how I feel and I…I almost didn’t get a chance to and—"

“Whoa, babe. That’s a lot of anger.”

Steve squeezes his hand again. Drags in a ragged, steadying breath. “It’s been a day.”

“Tell me about it.” When Steve leans down to kiss him on the temple, he sighs with regret. “Our timing sucks.”

Steve snorts. “Have you seen our lives? I don’t think there was ever going to be a good moment.” He delivers another gentle kiss. “Sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up. We can talk in the morning.”

Danny seriously doubts that – the talking bit – but he’s so tired he’s got no choice but to follow Steve’s instructions. There is one last very important thing he needs to make clear first: “Don’t scare the nurses when they come in. Play nice, Steven.”

Steve laughs. The sound rumbles in Steve’s chest, vibrates against his ear. His heart swells with love.

“Yes, Daniel.” Another kiss, lingering this time. “Go to sleep.”

With the warmth of Steve’s body stretched out beside him and his heart swelling with love for this goof, Danny does as he’s told.

The End.


End file.
